The King's Mass
by Twitch Hopeless-Savage
Summary: Two years later and the Museum of Natural History is opening their Kong exhibit. Ann attends it, reflecting on Kong's death and how much it hurt her. Even now, she is inconsolable over the death of such a majestic creature.


**The King's Mass**

Ann Darrow stood in the shade of Central Park, gloved hands clutching her handbag, sapphire eyes upturned, staring at the columned façade of the Museum of Natural History. Heavy streams of people were queuing up, walking past men in ape suits flirting with all the pretty young women in the crowd. It was reminiscent of that fateful night, so much joviality at the cost of a poor creature's freedom.

However, Ann didn't care about any of this; she only had eyes for the huge banner fluttering in the wind above the museum patrons, the words tearing into her soul.

"KONG! THE EIGHTH WONDER OF THE WORLD!"

Underneath, printed in smaller letters, were the words:

"Today we will unveil the monstrous skeleton left behind."

The Museum was even kind enough to send her a pair of VIP tickets, assuring she was in the front of the crowd when the curtain was pulled, perfectly positioned for all the tourists to get Beauty and The Beast in the same shot. Jack insisted that he should be there by her side, holding her hand in the face of the onslaught of the inquiring public, but Ann forbid him, this was something she had to do alone. After all, she was an actress; there was nothing she couldn't face.

Being weak got other people killed, got kind-hearted monsters killed. No matter what the papers said Ann knew the truth about what happened that night on the Empire State Building. Kong was not being vicious, he meant the fighter pilots no harm, he was just scared and trying to protect the only thing in New York City he recognized. He was lost in that jungle of metal and glass, just like every living soul that inhabited its streets every day. Only they were privy to a set of rules he would never understand.

On Skull Island he was King. In New York the crown belonged to man. In the end he knew that, as the gunshots tore open his chest Kong looked into Ann's eyes and she saw a broken soul, not some dumb animal, a truly soulful being who was dying here, in a strange place, to unfathomable cruelty he could never understand.

To see a mighty king humbled like that broke Ann's heart, the way he clung to the side of the building, the only thing between him and death was his own strength. Shattered, his fingers finally gave out on him, hands that had torn beast in two and scaled breathtaking mountains, unable to find a holding in this new world, seized. Kong cascaded down the side of New York's tallest building, dead long before his body was crushed against the pavement.

Ann stood atop the Empire State Building as down below there was a collective gasp and a muffled, wet crunch. The sunrays of a new day lapped at her pale skin, failing to warm it. Jack Driscoll took her hand and when Ann looked at him she was temporarily upset that it wasn't Kong standing there, his snaggletooth mouth turned up in an amused grin. While she was kissing Jack, Ann was honored that she'd been present at the fall of a truly noble creature.

Staring out across the skyline afterwards her heart swelled when she thought she heard Kong's mighty roar fill the metal valleys of the city.

Sighing, Ann opened her eyes. Making sure her hat was on straight, she ran across the street, weaving amongst the stalled traffic as what seemed like the population of the city congregated on the steps of the museum. Bypassing the crowds with the self-assuredness that came with her profession, Ann ascended the front steps, her shoes clicking loudly on the concrete.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to go to the back of the line and wait like everyone else," said the usher when she unceremoniously presented him with her ticket.

"Do you know who I am?" Ann demanded, hoping the inflection in her voice was the same she witnessed so many times in her contemporaries. She was going to show Kong that she could hold her own, if not against dinosaurs, then against the very creatures that devised his demise.

"I'm sure you're very important to some lucky guy, but I'm going to have to insist that you move to the back."

"At least look at my ticket first." It would've been easy to tell him that she was Ann Darrow, but she was going to make him work to rectify his ignorance.

"The museum still doesn't open for another fifteen minutes," he muttered, rudely snatching away her ticket. His eyes widened as they took in the words written across the ticket. "I'm sorry, Miss Darrow," he gulped, looking up at her. "The curator is waiting for you in the foyer."

Ann stared at the open door, looking dour. Once she got used to the character it was easy to slip into the role. The usher had turned away to chat up some pretty brunette standing in line with her friends.

"Excuse me, sir," she intoned, tapping her foot in annoyance. People were beginning to look at her, whispers that she was Beauty going up and down the line. She only had eyes for the usher who finally turned to look at her. "The door?" Ann's voice was venomous, shocking even her.

"Right," he said, scrambling to grope the handle and hold the door open, stepping aside so that Ann could sweep past, nose held high, not even expressing her gratitude.

The curator greeted her with a warm smile and a friendly handshake. He personally led her through the many corridors of the museum packed with thousands of artifacts detailing the history of humanity and earth. Ann didn't have eyes for any of these things, the curator's explanations static in her ears, like the buzzing of bugs, which fervently inhabited Skull Island.

Passing beneath an arched doorway they came to stop in a huge hall, the skeletons of dinosaurs ringing around the outside. Cutting down the middle of the room was a velvet curtain, strung along by a rope. The curator helped Ann into her seat, right in front of the where the display would be.

"I should go and greet the public now," he said, leaving Ann alone in the room.

Her eyes wandered to the skeleton of a T-Rex, towering over her. A small smile rose in the corners of her mouth. They were no match for the King.

The minutes ticked past, followed by the low hum of patrons making their way through the maze of artifacts. There was no pretense, no one feigned interest, they were here to see the skeleton of the beast that had terrorized their beloved city.

The seats around her filled quickly, the front row reserved for several important city figures. Though she was expected to, Ann didn't stand up once to greet someone she had never met like they were good acquaintances. She just sat their turning her dread into a cold edge.

Once everyone had settled down, many people filling in the gaps in the back of the room, the curator rose to his place behind the podium, tapping the microphone a few times to make sure it was working. He talked about how the beast had caused millions of dollars worth of damage to the city, taken many lives, and tried to make away with a brave young woman. He pointed at Ann and everyone stared, but her face didn't register recognition. Then he introduced the fighter pilots that had survived the harrowing attack on Kong and Ann became suddenly interested, not listening to what they said, but trying to understand how these puny men, not even kings in the city of kings, had killed the majesty of Kong.

Then it came time for the unveiling, the curtains slowly pulled back, teasing the public, who sat on the edges of their seats. They were going to look at their fear in the face, defeat in here and now when it was dead and gone, unable to fight back. These people wanted a packaged thrill, anything too real upset the delicate balance of their lives.

Just as it had been the moment he fell to the ground there was a collective intake of breath and then a large gasp as the remains of the King came into view, the bones arranged in a frightful posture, poised to attack the onlookers.

Ann's icy barrier cracked and tears welled up in her eyes. This wasn't the King. This wasn't Kong. This was just a nightmarish creature, this thing was never royalty.

Her eyes snapped to the curled fists, twisted in anger. Those same hands that had held her, that she had sat on and witnessed a gorgeous sunset with a King, the last sunset Kong was ever able to enjoy, the red and orange rays twinkling in the loving eyes of Kong as he looked at Ann, understanding that this was a perfect moment.

Pulling out her handkerchief to catch the waterfall of tears pouring from her eyes, Ann doubled over, emotions rushing through her at a million miles an hour. Rage, sadness, love, pain… It was almost too much.

The woman next to her took Ann's hand and patted it comfortingly. "It must have been a horrible experience for you, dear. Then, just when you thought it was over to have him kidnap you again, just terrible."

Through her tears she saw the fighter pilots laughing with one another, posing with the beast for pictures. "It really was a terrible night," she muttered through the sobs, their faces burned into her mind. "Awful beasts."

The old woman nodded sagely, missing that Ann had made her statement plural. No one would ever understand, not even Jack could.

"Good-bye, Kong," she whispered, standing up and walking down the aisle, away from his remains, cameras flashing like crazy. As she walked under the arches she heard the King roar one last time, this time far away in his jungle, roaming beneath the trees.


End file.
